


How Far We've Come

by AndyAO3



Category: Diablo (Video Game), Diablo III
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Implied Smut, M/M, also quite a bit of h/c, and possibly actual smut later, and the wizard is a little shit who has lots of issues, blood'n'guts, but some graphic descriptions of violent stuff later on, established relationships - Freeform, m/m - Freeform, not-so-established relationships too, post-Act 5, seriously spoilers, spoilertastic, well maybe not guts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-01-21 15:18:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1554965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndyAO3/pseuds/AndyAO3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Li feels like his entire life is balanced on the edge of a knife; no matter which way he falls, he's sure he'll get cut on the way down.</p><p>Sequel to Vengeance and Prophecy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Feeling Way Too Damn Good

**Author's Note:**

> THIRD FIC, WOO.
> 
> I'm on a roll here, gaiz. Heyo, Andy here, with a sequel to Vengeance and Prophecy hot off the presses!
> 
> This one's from the wizurd's point of view, which is a major departure from Lyndon's. It's fun to see how much they differ, and I like expanding on the wizard's lovely, nuanced character. There will be plot, there will be drama, and there will also be stabbings.

_"By the way, if any of the guards ask you my name... you don't know it."_

_"Lyndon, what did you do?"_

_"Just my normal activities."_

_"I can see how that might lead to problems."_

 

 

Dawn came and went, and neither of them could be assed to get up and greet it. It was getting to be around noon by Li's reckoning when he finally dragged himself out of the nest of soft things that had once been a respectable noble's well-made bed, standing on slightly unsteady legs and stretching lazily. Lyndon was still asleep, snoring loudly and drooling obliviously into a pillow. It wasn't exactly the most attractive pose Li had seen him in, but if he'd been wanting someone who was conventionally attractive, he probably would have tried for Kormac instead, or maybe Ander. Even the hulk of a crusader was better-looking than Lyndon was by most peoples' definitions, and he looked like his face had been stepped on.

Really though, what good was attractiveness when you could have _fun_ instead?

From the ridiculous moustache to the slicked-back hair and cocky swagger, the rogue was impossible to take seriously. And in that moment when he _wasn't_ being taken seriously, he'd rob the observer blind. Li had seen his share of thieves and vagabonds in his short lifetime, but none of them had both the talent _and_ charm that Lyndon seemed to bring effortlessly to his chosen profession. On top of that, just how many of those other criminals and scoundrels could look Death itself in the eye and then _survive_ the experience?

It was a very good thing that he wasn't the sort to blurt out every stray thought that popped into his head, he mused. That last bit might be considered _gushing_ , otherwise. Tugging down the shirt he'd pilfered the night before and taking a second to run his hand quickly through his hair, Li eased himself down to sit on the bed without disturbing the person sleeping on it.

Behind the charm and the confidence, Lyndon was sort of an _oaf_ when one got to know him. Rude, crass, and socially unacceptable, taking him anywhere was a bit like bringing a mangy fleabitten tomcat to a respectable dinner party and plopping said cat on the dining table. You had to be a certain sort of person to not want to kill both the cat and the person who had brought it. Fortunately, Li was the one bringing the cat in this analogy, and he was the sort of person who would laugh at all the other guests' shock and horror as the cat helped itself to the mashed potatoes.

Good gods, where had that analogy even come from? Did that mean by extension that Lyndon was his _pet_? Being a Nephalem must have really been going to his head of late.

Shaking his head, Li reached over and gently tapped the rogue's shoulder. "Lyndon, we've slept in."

"Nnzznmffm." Lyndon shifted slightly in his sleep, snorted, and smushed his face into the pillow.

This wasn't working. Rolling his eyes, Li licked his finger and stuck it in the man's ear.

" _Gah!_ " Jerking upright, Lyndon smacked the wizard's hand away. "What in Akarat's-- _Damn it_ , Li! Is this how you _always_ wake people up!"

Li couldn't help it; between the way Lyndon was pouting at him while rubbing at the afflicted ear, and the older man's reaction in general, he burst into laughter.

"Pffh," was the sound Lyndon made as he blew at an errant strand of hair hanging in front of his face. "What are you, _five_?"

The laughter eventually settled down to the level of occasional giggles, and Li was still grinning when he sat up a little straighter to kiss the rogue's cheek. "I _did_ try to wake you in a more reasonable manner beforehand."

"You should have taken the hint that I could use a bit more _rest_ , then," Lyndon said with a huff. The kiss got him to look at Li like the wizard had just grown six extra heads; he _really_ didn't seem used to such affectionate gestures. Well, tough. Li had wanted to, and so he did.

"If we sleep in much later we'll miss lunch as well as breakfast. It's already midday." With a flourish that was more out of habit than anything - if he'd had his magic, it would have thrown the curtains aside to let in what little light there was to be had in Westmarch at midday when it was overcast - Li stood up again and started for the next room, where his robes still were.

"Are you going to give me my shirt back, at least?" he heard Lyndon call after him.

The wizard laughed. "I wasn't planning on it." Oh, today was going to be an excellent day.

\---

The oversized shirt he'd stolen was a bit of an odd fit underneath his tunic, but once he rolled the sleeves up and belted everything, the only thing that looked awkward about it was that it almost came halfway down to his knees. Even on Lyndon, it was oversized, but on Li it was just silly.

As he strode back into the enclave, though, the wizard wore it as proudly as he might wear any official medal of honor. Lyndon followed behind him, tugging at a shirt he'd nicked from the mansion they'd been staying in. It was a poor fit, as well, but what was most obviously wrong about it was that it was too clean a shade of white and there wasn't a ragged edge to be seen.

Naturally, both of them were receiving a few funny looks. There was snickering and whispering, as well as elbow-nudging and the occasional sly wink. As far as Li was concerned, they could gossip all they wanted. This wasn't anything like back in Bastion's Keep, where he hadn't been sure of anything and it felt like he was being _judged_ by every passer-by for being Lyndon's _catamite_ (not that he'd told the rogue anything about that). These people were happy enough to be _alive_ , and they couldn't care less about what sorts of _preferences_ their savior might have.

But after a while, Li noticed something that managed to dampen his good mood. Lyndon was actually hanging _back_ a bit, keeping some distance and looking, well, a little confused, for lack of a better way of putting it. Considering Lyndon had been the one to actually initiate anything and light the proverbial spark between them, it was a little perplexing that he chose _now_ of all times to be shy about their current intimacy. What if the man _was_ having doubts, after all?

The moment it occurred to him, the wizard decided that such a thing simply wouldn't do. So, he turned on his heel, closed the gap that had come between them and hooked his arm with Lyndon's. Then he continued onward as if nothing were odd about it at all.

Lyndon ended up more confused than he'd been before. He blinked at Li for a minute, frowning in that way he often had when he was _thinking_ too much. "...You know, I'm not _exactly_ prime arm-candy material," the rogue said after a while.

Li scoffed. "Allow me to take a little pride in this, Lyndon. I _have_ managed to steal you from the open arms and open legs of every woman in Sanctuary."

It was as if he could _see_ the little cogs in Lyndon's brain grinding to a halt for a moment before the man could manage a response. "I'm just not sure what there is to be taking pride _in_ ," he answered after a pause. "And anyway, I thought you were supposed to be _nervous_ about taking this into public."

"...Was I?" Li hadn't been aware that such a thing was the case. "If anything, I was more worried that _you_ wouldn't appreciate such things tarnishing your reputation."

"How in the _burning hells_ does this tarnish my reputation? You're a sodding _demigod_. Next thing you know, people will be starting _cults_ in your honor." Sighing irritably, Lyndon reached up with his free hand to run his fingers through his hair. Another habit. "Is it that whole _thing_ about us both being men again?"

There it was, that tone that reminded Li that the two of them were still vastly different people in spite of their similarities. The one that said _are you still on about that_ without having to actually say it, and made the wizard feel a bit silly in the process. In this case though, it also made him feel just a teensy bit better. "I suppose," he replied finally.

Lyndon rolled his eyes. "Even if I _did_ care about that sort of thing - and I _don't_ , so don't get your pants in a knot - wouldn't that imply that, by allowing you to do this, I care _more_ about you than I do my blasted _reputation_? Li, if you're going to concoct _mad_ conspiracies about me, at least take them to their logical conclusions."

For the life of him, Li couldn't come up with anything to say to that.

He didn't quite realize that he'd been standing there staring with what was likely a sort of foolish look on his face until Lyndon had to turn back and take his arm to remind him to get moving again.

\---

Lunch was an informal affair. People filtered in whenever they felt like it, and Myriam seemed to always have something ready for them when they arrived. Kormac was just leaving as Li found a chair, and the former templar just sort of grunted at him and nodded in greeting. Since that was standard operating procedure between them, Li didn't see a need to take it personally.

It was a little odd, though, that Lyndon started to leave with his food as soon as he got it. Frowning, Li got him by the sleeve and held him back before he get farther than a foot away. "And just where do you think you're going?" he asked, raising a brow.

Lyndon cringed and leaned in to speak, lowering his voice. "Away from _Myriam_ ," he answered.

"Oh." A reasonable enough statement. Li sighed melodramatically. "All right, if you must."

Shaking his head and clearly trying not to grin, the rogue wandered off. Li had half a mind to follow him, but he thought better of it. Lyndon was still his own person, and he had a right to his privacy and his thoughts. Best to let him have at least a little distance, right? Sure, Li wasn't the best or most experienced at this relationship thing either, but he did know that smothering someone probably wasn't the best way to keep them by your side.

The trouble with being so aware of _everything_ \- which, in spite of not having his magic, Li still _was_ observant, even if he didn't always draw the right conclusions - was that he was just as aware of his own shortcomings as he was of anyone else's. He knew, for instance, that he was childish and unreasonable at times. He also knew that he was reckless and selfish and ridiculously stubborn, and above all, he knew that he sometimes wasn't the best at dealing with _people_. Isendra had said once that it was because he lacked empathy, but he didn't think that was quite true. He knew exactly how people felt at any given time. That was easy.

He just didn't know what might be causing those feelings. Worse yet, he didn't know how he might go about fixing them if they happened to be negative. In most cases, he could shrug it off fairly well, and it was a blessing that he could do so. Detatchment helped when it came to fixing things, because there was less pressure. But then he'd started caring about people.

Isendra had been the first person he'd cared about since he was a young boy. After her death, there had been another long gap where he'd only had the prophecy to guide him. Then he'd met Ander, shortly after the death of the Skeleton King, and the man had been like an aloof older brother to him. Kormac was close enough to be called a friend, but they rarely did more than argue on the subject of morality. Leah, too, had shown him an unconditional kindness that he'd lately come to miss more than a little. Haedrig was like the group's father figure, and Shen was the perverted old uncle. Even Eirena was like a little sister to him.

Lyndon, though... from the start, the scoundrel had been his best friend. He valued the man's input, trusted him, _confided_ in him. And Lyndon didn't judge him, not for an instant. Whether it was out of ignorance of social norms or indifference to them, Li didn't really _care_. To him, it meant quite a lot to be able to relax and be himself around someone. He _could_ act childish. It was _fine_ if he wanted to be a little selfish. He owed so _much_ to the thief because of that...

"You have barely touched your food, celdo. Perhaps you would like someone to talk to, yes?" Myriam's voice startled him out of his thoughts, and he sat up a little straighter on his chair as he turned to look at her.

He felt too tired to tell her off, really. "You would know the answer to that as well as anyone, Myriam," he said with a sigh, going back to his bowl of stew and poking at it halfheartedly with his spoon.

Myriam smiled warmly. He wanted to take it as condescending, but he couldn't, because he knew the woman was the farthest thing from it. "I think you could use more rest than you would admit to." She waddled over, stooped to fix an upturned chair and then plopped on it with a heavy sigh once it had been righted, leaning heavily on her staff. "And I think you are having trouble with finding contentment."

"Hah." Li set his bowl down after a while, half-finished. "It just seems too good to be true. A thousand things could go wrong, Myriam."

"And they might, celdo. But they might not, as well. Who knows what the future truly holds?" Her voice was gentle; if their little group was his surrogate family, he supposed that she was probably filled the grandmotherly role. "If you continue to anticipate what might go wrong, then you will not have time to truly appreciate what is going _right_ , no?"

Li bowed his head and bit his still-sore lower lip. A million thoughts ran through his head at once. He had too many questions, and far too many decisions to make, to sum up everything on his mind at that moment. With or without magic, he had no idea what direction his life was going to take. Being with Lyndon in any capacity just threw another wild variable into an already complex equation. To top it off, all of it was balanced on the knife-edge that was the hellish state the world was in at any given moment. How could he justify weighing the rogue down in his current pitiful capacity if everything went to absolute _shit_ again?

A few minutes passed in silence, neither of them saying another word. There was an unspoken understanding between them that Myriam would say nothing truly useful and Li would admit nothing truly profound to her, and both of them had their reasons that they had long since spoken about. After an indeterminate amount of time, the mystic woman stood with a groan and some creaking in her joints, walking over to pat Li gently on the shoulder.

It was some time after she left that he decided to pick up his bowl and try eating again. If he was going to face the world as a mortal, _mundane_ man, then he might as well start off by not doing so on an empty stomach.


	2. Time After Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Li gets contemplative, and things are mostly quiet for a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's she doing? Going SLOWLY? Oh, HORRORS.
> 
> Nah, it's fun. Li's brain is a fun thing to pick apart.

_"Remind me to never die for something honorable. It always turns out poorly."_

 

　

The day continued to pass in a dull, awkward way. It seemed to drag on endlessly, in spite of the fact that Li had wasted a fair chunk of it doing nothing but sleeping. Without magic, there was little to do. He couldn't exactly join in on the others' fun, clearing out what few remaining reapers there were and killing the opportunistic vermin that had decided to overtake the city now that the humans weren't there to shoo them or beat them with brooms. Even the sky overhead did its part in contributing to the dreary mood, stubbornly remaining overcast and refusing to do anything interesting.

After lunch, Lyndon had come by to see if he was all right, and he'd told the rogue to go with the rest of the group. He was starting to regret that decision. At least with Lyndon around, things wouldn't be so _boring_ , even if he would be weighing the man down with his very presence. He was aware of the selfishness of that line of thinking, but he couldn't be bothered to care. The enclave didn't even really have that many _books_ that he hadn't read already.

Li would prefer it if the clouds parted and let through a little sun, but halfway through the afternoon he'd gotten to the point where he'd even appreciate a bit of rain, just to give him something _different_ to focus on.

Haedrig had no use for him, since without his magic he was even more of a dead weight than Brycen. He could only listen to Shen's stories about his many wives for so long. Speaking to Myriam again was completely out of the question, as the woman had nothing useful to say and her reassurances gave him a sick feeling of foreboding.

He felt like something was going to go wrong - _knew_ the world wasn't done screwing with him yet - but there wasn't a thing he could do about it, particularly if he didn't have a clue what that something was. After all, he had nothing but his own instincts to go by, and at that moment it seemed like everything was perfectly fine.

Better than fine, even. He had Lyndon, didn't he?

It was all probably just his overactive imagination and tendency to wildly overthink things, wasn't it?

Then why wasn't he able to think his way out of feeling so nervous?

"I'm going for a walk," he said, standing up suddenly from where he'd been near the fire.

Haedrig glanced up from his work (gently hammering out a dent in one of Hanquai's shields) as the wizard passed. "They'll be back soon, lad. Are yeh certain about goin' out alone?"

Sighing, Li whipped around a bit more fiercely than he'd intended to; it made Brycen flinch. That idiot. Li couldn't do much more than fling pebbles at him even if he wanted to. " _Soon_ could be five minutes or an hour from now. And it isn't as if I'm about to set off for Bramwell on my own."

"At least take someone with yeh," Haedrig insisted, firmly but calmly. _Sensibly_. Couldn't he see that Li wanted to have a nice, irrational moment to himself to shout profanities at fate?

"Then which _someone_ might you suggest?" he asked irritably.

\---

"This is actually a fairly nice day, in terms of the usual weather one might find in Westmarch," Lorath said casually, fidgeting with his polearm. "It isn't raining, nor is it all that cold."

Li didn't like Lorath all that much. It didn't help that every time the young Horadrim had been sent with him, it had been for the sole purpose of keeping him from doing something irresponsible. Lorath was a practical sort, and Li didn't get on well with practical sorts as a rule. That Haedrig had insisted he take Lorath with him felt a bit like being put on a leash.

He didn't see why ne needed a leash _now_ of all times. It was just a walk through the city, damn it, and it wasn't as if Li could piss anything off by flinging arcane missiles at it until it snapped. Or that there was anything to piss off to begin with, for that matter. He had specifically chosen a path through the safest, most _dead_ bits of town, because they'd been cleaned and cleared of the corpses _first_ while he, Ander and Lyndon had been in Pandemonium still.

It was so _different_ to walk those alleys and streets when they weren't strewn with corpses, piled so high that one couldn't see the cobblestone streets below. The stains of blood and gore still remained on every surface, but otherwise it looked remarkably like a normal street. If one ignored the lingering smell of rot that hung in the humid air and the eerie stillness, anyway.

Oh, right, Lorath was talking. "Is Li short for something? It sounds like an odd sort of name."

Li snorted. "And Hanquai isn't an odd name?"

"His is a rare case, and he does go by Han." The Horadrim seemed to admire the crusader a bit. Then again, he admired all three of the Nephalem in the group. "You're the only one who calls him by his full name like that."

"It's how he introduced himself at Bastion's Keep, and I can pronounce it without tripping over my own tongue." When the crusader had arrived at the keep, he, Shen, and Eirena had been the only ones who had initially been able to say _Hanquai_ without it turning into _Hankai_ or worse. After that, the two mages had decided between them that it was just best to introduce him as Han.

Lorath didn't like the assertion that he couldn't do something as simple as pronouncing a _name_. His brows furrowed with what was probably a frown, but that pointless mask of his was hiding the rest of his expression from view. "Han... _quai_. There, I can say it."

"But you have to slow down to do so," Li noted.

"I can still _say_ it, but you're just avoiding my question now, aren't you?" the hooded young man asked, still frowning at him.

And Li couldn't help his smirk. "Possibly."

It started to seem very much like Lorath was pouting at him through that mask. "So does that mean that you _do_ have a full name, but you feel that it's impossible to pronounce?"

" _You_ would find it impossible to pronounce, yes." Even _Lyndon_ had trouble pronouncing Li's name without sounding like he was making random noise. It had been amusing for about five minutes before it had started to make the wizard cringe. He'd been introducing himself as Li since he'd been a _student_ for good reason.

By his tone, Lorath had gone from probably pouting to _definitely_ pouting. "You can't know without trying," he said, giving Li a displeased look over the top of his mask.

Li let out a long sigh. "Xiao Li-Tzu."

"Jhow lee zh... _what?_ " The poor Horadrim looked a little bit upset by the sheer difficulty of it. "That isn't a name at all, it's a _mess_."

"You should see what it looks like written down. In Xiansai, everything is written sideways and backwards from how you write here in Westmarch, and the language itself is a bit like trying to read a drunk healer's instructions to an alchemist," Li said, smirking again.

Lorath hesitated a moment. "...I'll have to take your word for it, as I've never been to Xiansai. What did you say your full name was, again? I'd like to at least _try_ to learn it."

"Oh, it's Xiao Li-Tzu. You're welcome to try, I suppose." There was a rustling off to the side, but when Li turned his head to look, he only saw a rat rooting around in a street merchant's abandoned stall. Pff, harmless. In Caldeum it probably would have been an angry scorpion. Westmarchers had it easy. "Don't take it personally if I tell you to shut up, though."

"I won't. People sometimes get Lorath _Nahr_ wrong, so I can understand your frustration to a point." Lorath was frowning again, but for once it wasn't directed at the wizard. "...Did you hear that?"

Li shrugged. "It looked like a rat to me. This city's sewers are infested with them, from what I've seen." Amongst other things. He wasn't quite sure whether it was reaper magic or amateur necromancy gone wrong animating the _skeletons_ down there. Nor was he really sure what those skeletons _were_ originally, to be honest.

"Hmm," the young Horadrim _hmm_ ed noncommittally. He was still on his guard. Li didn't really see a point. If something was going to leap out at them from the sewers, the best option would be to run anyway. Lorath had barely handled himself in the blood marshes; the main advantage he had was that he was aware enough to not stand in things he ought to not be standing in.

Something Lyndon still wasn't very good at, Li reminded himself. But at least Lyndon could be trusted to put bolts in things and those things would usually fall down and stop attacking as a general rule because he knew where to put the bolts. "Concerned about catching some form of _plague_? It's the fleas that carry it, you know, not the rats."

Lorath stared for a moment longer, shook his head and turned to follow the wizard again. "It must have been my imagination, then," the Horadrim concluded uncertainly. "At any rate, the others might start to worry if we stay out much longer. They've probably returned from their duties by this point."

"Oh, if we _must_ ," Li conceded, even though he was secretly glad to return to the enclave. Even _Shen_ was more interesting company than Lorath.

\---

He tried, he _really_ tried to avoid heading straight for Lyndon the moment he spotted the man. It would make him seem much too clingy, he told himself, and he didn't want to smother the scoundrel any more than he normally might just because they happened to be a _thing_ now. He also didn't want to make himself out to be needy or jealous, because he _wasn't_. Really. He wasn't. He'd much rather Lyndon have all the space he might need than have the man end up leaving outright because he didn't like being fawned over.

So it was absolutely _exasperating_ to Li when the rogue, halfway through offloading pocketfuls of battered treasure onto Vincent the merchant, caught a glimpse of him and _beckoned him over_. Grinning, even. Damn that grin for being so crooked and infectious and _stupidly_ charming.

Li's eyes rolled, but he couldn't deny that he was smirking a little when he strode over to the thief's side. "What did you find _this_ time...?" he asked with an overdramatized sigh.

Lyndon took a minute to dig through his pockets and pouches and packs for whatever it was; many other valuable and interesting-looking items fell to the ground in the process of his search. "Erm, just a moment. I could have _sworn_ I had it here..."

Really, the variety of things that the scoundrel tended to pick up was _astounding_. A dented goblet, a spoon, a broken mirror with a silver frame, a sharp tooth from something large, a satchel that was leaking sparkling blue dust, and a damaged-but-gem-encrusted gold belt buckle all fell out of the man's packs as he rooted around in them for whatever it was he was looking for. Li wondered for a moment why Lyndon still bothered. "If I didn't know that some of your packs were bags of holding that I enchanted _myself_ , I'd wonder where you put it all," he remarked.

The thief snickered. "Even before you _had_ , I found my ways. Remember back in Leoric's torture-cellars?" He didn't look up as he spoke, but he was grinning at the memory; poor Vincent, the now-ignored merchant, seemed to think that grinning at the mention of torture chambers was a bit disconcerting.

Thing is, the thought made Li grin too. "You had two crowns jammed onto your head and one stuffed around each elbow, with eight amulets and twelve rings on, and your pockets were overflowing. I've seen treasure goblins that dropped less than you did then." He said it partly to show he remembered, and partly to ease the merchant's nerves. It seemed to work, because Vincent immediately looked relieved. "You even _jingled_ as you walked. It wasn't exactly your most _subtle_ act of thievery."

"Ahh, but what point is there in _subtlety_ when the only ones who are around to care that you're nicking their loot are mad cultists _anyway_?" Lyndon's face lit up as his grasping hands found whatever it was they were looking for in his numerous packs. " _Ahah_! There you are..."

Then the scoundrel pulled out the most profoundly _beautiful_ wand that Li had ever seen, and handed it to him.

If he were able to sense magic, he might've been able to gauge it further, but he almost didn't need to. It was a long, lovingly carved rod of yew wood with a faintly purple stain, polished and waxed with intricate arcane runes etched into its length that had been inlaid with purest silver. The handle was carefully shaped for comfort and ease of grip, and wrapped in fine silk. It would have cost hundreds of thousands to have such a thing crafted.

Li held it in his hands with the delicate care that one might afford an injured hummingbird, and was momentarily dumbstruck.

"I asked Eirena, and she said it was quality work," Lyndon began, in a manner that implied he _might_ be babbling nervously just to break the awkward silence. "You're not that, erm... well, you're not that _strong_ , physically, so I figured that without your magic you might have a bit of _trouble_ with that freakishly large sword you had before. Since I haven't seen you use it as an actual _sword_ , you know." When Li didn't respond immediately, he continued, "A-and I figured that, well, you can't use your magic _now_ , but maybe an item that's a bit magical might... help?" He sounded doubtful of his own notion. "E-even if it doesn't, you'll be able to use it when you get your magic _back_ , right?"

A million thoughts were running through Li's mind when he looked up to meet Lyndon's eyes, finding the scoundrel staring at him. He was about to say he couldn't accept such a gift, were it not for the look in those eyes. Then, it didn't matter that the wand reminded him of how much he'd lost and wasn't sure he could regain, or that it was _far_ too rich a gift, especially coming from _Lyndon_ of all people. Li was sure that the man would have sold the wand as soon as he'd gotten his hands on it as soon as a few _weeks_ prior.

"Erm... Li?" the rogue prodded, looking even more unsure than he had.

 _Oh, who cares if anyone's looking_ , he thought, before nearly _tackling_ Lyndon and pulling him into a tight embrace, causing the man to stagger a little.

Vincent gaped, blinking at the both of them; he was still _right there_ , after all. "...I think that means 'e likes it, mate," the merchant commented.

"Heh." Lyndon had reflexively tensed a bit at being hugged, but as he began to relax, he reached a hand up to pet Li's hair gently. The wizard could hear the smile in his tone when he replied, "I think you might be right about that."

Pfft. Of course the man was _right_. Just to confirm their thoughts (and further prove to Lyndon that he'd done _well_ , in case the fool had any doubts), Li pulled away enough to get his wand-free hand up into the scoundrel's hair and pull him in for a properly, ahem, _thankful_ kiss.

"Dinner, then _bed_ ," Li told him under no uncertain terms when they parted from each other, feeling slightly breathless and giddy.

Lyndon could only _gawk_ at him. "Right, yes. Good."

Grinning smugly, Li allowed himself to take some small pride in having rendered Lyndon mostly-speechless.


	3. Breaking Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long with this one. I've been distracted with a one-shot that I may or may not post.

_"I know I'm always jesting about it, but travelling with you like this has been good for me. I didn't have much to be proud of before I knew you."_

 

 

Li's plan to give the thief his space had been pretty much foiled from the moment they spotted each other again.

For starters, they'd already really had no sense of personal space around each other for about as long as they'd been friends. They'd sit near each other at mealtimes so they could exchange quips and puns and bad jokes. They stuck close to each other when they fought together, at times even going back-to-back so that each of them knew that the other wouldn't be caught in any friendly fire while they gave each other cover fire. Even as early as the caravan ride to Caldeum, they'd gravitated towards each other to the point that they were perfectly fine using each others' shoulders as pillows, taking turns due to disruptions like snoring and drooling.

There had been more instances of elbowing in the side, arms thrown around shoulders, hair-mussing, and yanking-out-of-dangerous-things than Li could even _begin_ to count. The awkward week that they'd spent tiptoeing around each other had only been made _more_ tense by the lack of friendly contact. In fact, it was entirely possible - and even _probable_ \- that the continued need to _touch_ that they both seemed to have was made more urgent by the both of them going without it. A reservoir of strength derived from physical contact, he supposed, that had been allowed to run dangerously low.

Silly as it was, it made a sort of sense. And once Li had figured it out, he realized that he probably shouldn't have expected the whole plan of avoiding Lyndon to work out to begin with.

As he turned the wand that the scoundrel had given him in his hands, tracing the fine details of it with his fingertips, he wondered about his own nervousness. Being leaned against the rogue's side was doing wonders for his jitters, and the strong arm wound around his shoulders didn't exactly hurt, either. They were seated on the cathedral steps after having finished eating supper, which had been as proper an affair as Myriam could whip up; everyone in the enclave had gathered for it, and there had been much chatter and merriment. But during the whole event, the two of them hadn't strayed more than a few meters away from each other.

The idea had been that they'd finish dinner, then head back to the mansion that they'd laid claim to. After that, he figured that he would goad Lyndon into letting go of whatever inhibitions he might still have. Best case scenario, the thief would still have enough energy left after the day's events that they might go at it like rabbits 'til dawn. Overall, Li considered the idea to be a perfectly adequate way of making up for lost time.

Then Lyndon had frowned, told him to _wait_ , paused midstep, and frowned some more. After having come to some sort of decision, the rogue nodded to himself, took Li's hand with a mumbled _come on_ and led him to the steps. And that's how they'd gotten to where they were. Cuddling.

"...Sorry. You looked a bit peaky, there." Lyndon said after several minutes. "Romantic as it might _be_ , I don't much like the thought of _carrying_ you to our newfound abode."

Had he really looked faint? Li supposed the lack of magic wasn't doing his complexion any favors, but he hadn't _felt_ like he was weakened. "I think you might be overthinking things, Lyndon."

The scoundrel scoffed. "Oh, _am_ I now?" Li felt him cling a little tighter. "You're one to talk about _overthinking_ things."

"Much as I appreciate the concern, I really do think you're worrying a bit too much." Li smirked, but there wasn't much mirth behind it. Something deeper was troubling the rogue, he knew. "...What's the matter?" he asked after a moment, more gently.

"I--" Lyndon's voice hitched, and he closed his eyes tightly. "I don't know that I should tell you. Not to mention that I _still_ don't quite know that I've got it all straight in my _own_ bloody head. And knowing you, there's already enough on _your_ mind to fill a twenty-volume encyclopedia _anyway_."

"Closer to _thirty_ volumes, but at least half of them would be nothing but lewd ideas," the wizard said with a wry smile, relaxing a little. So Lyndon was worried _and_ being careful with him. Likely there was still something wrong, but Li enjoyed being able to think that the scoundrel cared that much, selfish as it might make him.

And the joke got the thief to laugh, which also helped. "Hah. I thought the lewd ideas were _my_ area of expertise."

"Mmm, then I suppose that must be your influence that gives me the ability to come up with them so readily." The air was getting cooler as the world grew darker; Li suppressed a shiver and snuggled into the rogue's side a little closer.

Lyndon snorted. "It's possible."

For several minutes after that, nothing was said between them. Li was comfortable enough where he was that he could allow his mind to go mostly blank, focusing on taking in the details. The rough texture of Lyndon's battered old coat, the rise and fall of his chest, a gentle breeze bringing with it the faint smell of mildew and damp earth--

"Ander said... well," the taller man began hesitantly, "he said that you've... _loved_ me since Caldeum." He had trouble with the word _love_ , like the very thought of it pained him.

Li pulled away from the rogue just enough to be able to gawk at him. _What_? Something in the wizard's chest tightened at hearing such a thing from the older man. "Lyndon..."

"--I'm not quite sure how _I_ feel about all of this yet, so don't jump to any conclusions," Lyndon continued hastily, unable to look him in the eye. "But I _do_ know how it feels to... to _care_ about someone, and then have them not reciprocate it." The scoundrel let out a slow, unsteady breath. "...I'm _sorry_ , if I put you through that."

There were no _words_ for how Li felt at that point. None. What was there to even say in response that wouldn't fall flat in comparison? It took a while for the wizard to gather himself so that he could do something beyond slack-jawed staring, because for a time it seemed like all the logical bits of his brain had shut off and the emotional bits - the ones in charge of his simultaneous urges to laugh, cry, and jump the rogue right there on the steps - had taken over and were fighting over which response was most appropriate. In the end, logic took over again. "...Heh." He leaned into the older man's side again and allowed himself a smile. "And how long has that been eating away at you?"

Lyndon smirked a little guiltily. So it _had_ been eating away at him. Li preened mentally a little bit, taking pride in the fact that he was getting better at reading the man. "A couple of days," he admitted.

"Ahh, so that's why it seemed like you were suddenly _receptive_ to my blatant hints." Li sighed, snuggling right back up to the thief's side. "If it makes you feel better, it's not as if I've been _pining_ after you since before we killed Belial. I didn't even figure it all out _myself_ until Bastion's Keep, and I'm frankly not sure how _Ander_ saw through it when I never said a word to anyone."

"They weren't all that _blatant_ to me, I'll have you know," Lyndon said with a pout. "You give more mixed signals than most _women_."

"I do _not_!" He elbowed the rogue in the side roughly. " _You're_ just slow."

"I think _you're_ just completely stark raving _mad_." The scoundrel paused. "...though, once I _did_ find out, I sort of realized that it should have been a bit more _obvious_ to me. And, hold on. Should I take the fact that you're not _denying_ anything as a confession?"

Pff, what a silly question. "If it weren't true, I would have told you. If I hadn't already accepted the fact that I care about you, or if I were that insecure, then I'd deny it badly and quietly hope that you saw through it. As things stand, there's hardly any point in _discouraging_ the notion."

"Saying 'yes I do love you, Lyndon, don't be so thick' would have worked just as well."

"I was pointing out _why_ it was a dumb question. It was constructive criticism."

"No, you just like to feel like you're the cleverest one in the room."

"Most of the time, I _am_ the cleverest one in the room."

"Actually, you're usually just the cheekiest _know-it-all_ in the room."

"Is it cheeky if I really _do_ know more on a discussion topic than everyone else in the room at any given moment?"

" _Very_ cheeky." Lyndon yelped when he was poked in the side with the wand he'd given Li previously. " _Ow!_ Be careful, damn it. That thing's still magical even if _you're_ not, and I don't want to be turned into a _newt_."

"For a wand to cast without someone _telling_ it to, it has to be either possessed or cursed, and this isn't." Even if he couldn't see magic, he knew the runes. The thing was _warded_ , not cursed, and even a blind idiot could probably tell if it were possessed. "You _really_ don't know anything about magic, do you?"

Lyndon huffed and rubbed at where he'd been jabbed, pouting. "I know _some_ things."

"For example...?" Oh, Li _had_ to hear this.

"I... know... erm." The rogue frowned hard, obviously thinking on the question. "I... Well, I know it's going to start getting bloody _cold_ out before long, for one thing. Why are we talking about _magic_ instead of getting a bit more use out of that _bed_ we've found?" Hah! He didn't know anything, did he?

" _You're_ the one who pulled _me_ aside," Li reminded the man. Then he stood with a stretch and some popping of joints. " _Nnf_ , I think we've wasted at _least_ a half-hour talking."

Lyndon grinned his usual crooked grin, standing up to join the wizard. "Oh, I wouldn't say it was a _complete_ waste. We've learned quite a bit, haven't we?"

"I've learned that Ander is a terrible gossip who probably needs to get _laid_ ," he retorted, "and that _you_ are an irredeemable _sap_."

"At this point, my dear, I think we _both_ are. We just spent a half-hour _cuddling_ and discussing _feelings_." The thief shuddered in mock-disgust. "Eugh."

"You're still the one who _started_ it." Li held out his arm as an invitation for Lyndon to take it. "I wasn't going to bring any of it up."

"And yet in the past, you've _pestered_ me until I gave in and talked about my problems just so you might stop _bothering_ me about them. At this point it's only _fair_ for me to make sure you're all right as well." There wasn't any hesitance or reluctance in the way Lyndon hooked his arm in the wizard's, smirking. "Shall we?"

"Shall we _finally_ get on with what we intended to do to begin with, you mean?" he purred back in a teasing tone.

The scoundrel just laughed. Their spirits lifted, they set off for the Heights.

\---

They kept talking, kept _laughing_ along the way. They spoke of their adventures, the bad food, the even-more-bad _weather_. They spoke of things that each would rather have the other forget about - in Lyndon's case, the way Hanquai would use his conjured charger to plow ahead, picking up companions by the collar and taking them with him along the way to drop them unceremoniously wherever he ended up; in Li's case, how many times he had gotten his robes stuck in something - and things that they had fond memories of, like smashing up rich peoples' jars and chests and baskets in Caldeum just because they _could_ , or the numerous rounds of town-portalling they would do at times when they couldn't carry everything that they wanted to loot.

They were happy. They were having _fun_. And, perhaps most mind-bogglingly of all, they were still _friends_. Li had fully expected their friendship to fall to pieces if they ever got together, and it had been part of why he'd avoided trying to. At that point, though, he was really wondering why he'd ever thought he had cause to worry about it. It was fine, all perfectly _normal_.

He should have been on his guard.

There was a rustling, down one of the back alleys. The two of them paused, but Li shrugged it off. "There were some rats earlier, when I went on a walk with Lorath. They're getting brave now that there's no humans to scare them off," the wizard rationalized, gently elbowing Lyndon to get him to keep walking.

"Mm... right." Though he wasn't convinced, Lyndon seemed to reluctantly concede the point and they continued onward.

Li chuckled quietly. "Must you be so tense, Lyndon? I think even as I _am_ , I can handle a couple of half-starved sewer rats--"

Something lunged from the shadows, a blur of motion and black cloth in Li's peripheral vision. Lyndon barely had time to shout " _look out_ " before it was on them, and suddenly Li was shoved to the side as the rogue whipped around and met their attacker with a knife pulled from somewhere in his coat, parrying a blow that narrowly missed his face.

As Li turned to face the assailant, it felt like time had slowed around him. He could feel his heart pounding and his blood racing while his mind kicked into high-gear to work out just what the _hell_ was going on. He couldn't tell the attacker's gender at a glance, but their overall appearance was enough to give him a chill as he realized that their assailant wasn't an average opportunistic mugger at all, or even one of the Thieves' Guild members that hunted Lyndon so relentlessly.

In his youth, he had read the stories and heard the tales of the viz-jaq'taar, and when he was barely an adult, his mentor had been killed by one of them in cold blood. The very _rumor_ of their existance was enough to discourage most mages from doing anything unethical. And as he found himself standing before one, he began to feel almost sick with fear.

The assassin seemed to think Lyndon was little more than a distraction; with lightning swiftness, it sent a high, spinning kick at the rogue's head. The impact knocked him for a loop and made him stagger, spitting blood and curses, and that gave their attacker plenty of time to round on Li.

Two long, glinting blades were brought out from gods-only-knew-where, scissors katar by the look of them. Li had no doubts about their deadliness, his mind unhelpfully giving him a mental image of being eviscerated. When the assassin charged at him, it was all he could do to dodge; even if he could cast, he wasn't sure that it would do any good. The viz-jaq'taar weren't known as _mage killers_ for nothing.

He jerked back when the assassin swung a blade at him, fighting against his rising panic all the while. The next swing was faster, and he was barely able to move quickly enough to avoid being eviscerated. As it was, it inflicted a deep gash on his left hand when he made a half-assed attempt at blocking it, causing him to yelp and nearly stumble.

Then he _did_ fall with the next attempt at dodging, hitting the cobblestones _hard_. And the assassin, fast as a whip, moved to pin him before he could scramble away.

Li would carry the next few moments with him, in sharpest detail, for the rest of his life. The knee pressed into his diaphragm, the cold steel against his throat. His injured hand throbbing with pain. The assassin leaning down, breath warm through the mask, so close he could feel raven-black hairs brushing against the skin of his cheek. A hissed whisper into his ear.

_"The high councilor sends his regards,_ " the viz-jaq'taar informed him.

He silently hoped he'd been wrong about there being no life beyond death--

_Shnk_.

Time stood still for a second. The assassin coughed; her mask developed a dark stain. Then she - for her voice was decidedly feminine - slumped on top of him, as an uncomfortably heavy dead weight.

"Ignoring people is _rude_ , you know," Lyndon remarked from not too far off, with a note of barely-restrained fury and contempt in his voice. Li couldn't see where he was around the would-be killer's body, and he didn't dare move because of the blade still resting against his neck. Luckily, the thief was there to shift the dead assassin off of him, making a sound of distaste as he did so.

Hell, he was lucky that Lyndon had been there at _all_. Else he'd be _dead_.

The scoundrel held out a hand to him to help him up. "Not too badly wounded, I hope?" Lyndon wasn't smiling, but it was only partly due to worry; the right side of his face was bruised and swollen, and blood was trickling steadily from a split lip, sticking his moustache together.

Li bit his own lip and nodded quickly as he took the man's hand with his uninjured one to pull himself up with a cringe. "Just a small cut," he assured the rogue, "along with a bit of bruising to my _ego_." Once he was up, he started dusting himself off, and took a moment to glance at his hand - which hurt, but the bleeding had thankfully slowed - before turning to better inspect Lyndon's face. "You?"

"Pff. I've had worse in tavern brawls. An oak chair to the head, now _that_ hurts." The thief flinched away from Li's attempt to touch his face. "That was an _assassin_ , wasn't it? A real, _bloody_ assassin. After _you_."

"It certainly _seems_ that way." Li's hand went to the wand where he'd put it in his robe, making sure that it had survived their little encounter. He breathed a sigh of relief upon finding that it hadn't so much as chipped the varnish.

Lyndon frowned deeply, or as deeply as he could when he looked as if he'd stuck his head in a meat grinder. "Why would an _assassin_ be after _you_? I can't see you being the type to owe anyone _money_ or steal a nobleman's _wife_. Or, well, in your case it'd be steal a noble _woman's_ husband, I suppose."

"Probably because I blew up the Yshari Sanctum and almost killed the High Councilor of the Vizjerei," Li answered with a sigh. Really, he should have expected such a thing to happen eventually. He shouldn't have been caught so off-guard and powerless.

Oh, and the rogue was giving him a funny look again. "... _what_?" Lyndon sounded disbelieving.

Li shrugged lightly. "They wouldn't have let me _leave_ without bloodshed otherwise. I was proving a point."

"The _high councilor_ of _all_ the various mage-clans? Am I getting that right?" By then Lyndon was outright _boggling_ at him. "What in the name of _all that is holy_ gave you the idea that this information wasn't worth _mentioning_ to me?"

"I just didn't think of it. It slipped my mind--" he cut himself off when Lyndon _glared_ at him. "Don't give me that look!"

"How in the _burning Hells_ am I supposed to _protect_ you if you don't bloody well _tell_ me these things!" Sighing angrily, Lyndon stooped long enough to pull his knife from the back of the assassin's neck, wiping it on his clothes before putting it back where it belonged in his coat. Then he grabbed Li firmly by the wrist and proceeded to yank him along for a brisk walk.

The wizard didn't approve of being led along like a puppy. "Ow-- _damn_ it, Lyndon, let go--" he protested, though he wasn't strong enough to pull his hand out of the man's grip.

Lyndon didn't even pause or look back at him. He sounded angrier than Li had heard him in a long time. "No, we're going _back_ to the enclave where it's _safe_ to figure this whole sodding _mess_ out," he snapped. "And you're going to _explain_ to me - in detail - just what the _hell_ is going on."

Li didn't say another word after that.


	4. Dark Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not good. Very not good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time coming, sorry! If it's choppy it's because I kept getting distracted while writing it because I know how I want everything to go AFTER this.
> 
> Lyndon's actually a hell of a lot calmer than I thought he'd be. He'll probably snap later, I'm guessing.

_"You'd be lost here without me."_

_"Really. You have no idea where we are, do you?"_

_"Maybe I do, and I just don't want to make you feel stupid."_

　

 

"So, just so we're clear on the details..." Lyndon began, and Li noted that the rogue sounded a little bit _testy_ , "...you _blew up_ the Yshari Sanctum, nearly _killed_ the high councilor of the Vizjerei, and left Caldeum to run off to New Tristram--"

Li felt like he should defend himself. "It seemed like a perfectly good idea at the time--"

"-- _all_ for the sake of fulfilling some mad old _prophecy_?" the scoundrel finished, giving Li an incredulous look.

Idly scratching at the cut on his hand, the young wizard didn't really think he could meet the look in Lyndon's eyes right at that moment without feeling just a _bit_ guilty. Oh, not for what he'd _done_ \- he was glad he'd left the Sanctum when he had and doubted he could have done it without bloodshed, considering his repuation - but more for neglecting to tell Lyndon about it.

Really, it just didn't occur to him that he should tell the thief things sometimes. It probably had to do with not being used to people caring and worrying about him, by his reckoning. Another note to add to the ever-growing list of reasons why he wasn't particularly good with people. It wasn't that he didn't trust Lyndon, it was just that his past didn't rank particularly high on the list of things that were important to talk about.

Lyndon was glaring at him. Actually, no, he was silently _fuming_. And such a rare sight had caught the attention of onlookers. When they'd gotten back to the enclave, it had sparked immediate interest from the usual peanut gallery since no one had expected them to come _back_ before the next day. By the time the shouting and explanations had begun, Ander and Hanquai had come over to watch, and they were soon joined by Kormac, Eirena, Shen, Lorath, Haedrig and even Brycen. Hanquai looked amused by their little spat; Ander had his usual bland expression. Everyone else was confused or bewildered or worried.

Once he'd been silent long enough to determine that Li wasn't going to respond, Lyndon sighed irritably (and shakily; it didn't escape the wizard's notice that Lyndon was on edge) and turned on his heel like he didn't want to look Li in the eye _either_. "Fine. Whatever. We'll deal with things as they come, I--" The rogue stopped midsentence and stared at the little crowd they'd gathered disbelievingly.

Li couldn't help the quiet snort of laughter that escaped him, ducking his head to hide the fact that he was grinning.

"--And just what are all of _you_ doing just standing about and _gawking_ like fools!" Lyndon snapped at the group. "Don't you have anything _better_ to do?"

"Actually, no," Ander admitted.

Hanquai still seemed to be entertained by the whole thing. " _Assassins_? Really? Are you two quite sure you're not just magnets for trouble?"

"But why didn't they attack earlier, when Li left the enclave with me before?" Lorath asked, his brow knit together with a frown.

"You're more dangerous-looking. Lyndon is dressed casually and seems unarmed," Ander informed the Horadrim, "while you're partly armored and carrying a spear."

"Oh." Lorath seemed disappointed; probably by the unsaid implication that he _wasn't_ , in fact, as dangerous as Lyndon.

"That still doesn't explain why it might happen _now_ of all times," Kormac said. He had a look about him like he was thinking very hard on the subject at hand. Li wondered silently if the former templar's brain might catch fire someday from having to think so hard about things. "There've been a fair number of moments during our travels where this... _assassin_ might have caught Li both alone and unaware."

"Oh, _would_ they, now?" Haedrig questioned with a raised brow and an unamused look. He was probably one of the few people taking it all seriously. "Mage-killers these assassins may be, lad, but I can't imagine they'd fancy goin' up against Li at full strength."

"Indeed, the viz-jaq'taar can be as patient and cunning as they are ruthless," said Eirena. Poor girl looked shaken by the very thought. "That is why they are so feared..."

Li began to tune out the conversation after that. He was tired, a bit sore, and emotionally wrung out. And his hand had begun to sting and throb again, to his annoyance. Wasn't it supposed to ease a bit by the time it'd stopped bleeding? He stared off into space and let his mind wander while he continued to scratch at it.

He'd have to leave, of course. Not that he'd intended to stay in Westmarch, but with assassins after him, he couldn't afford to put everyone else in danger. Especially Lyndon. Just when everything was starting to go well... but it was too risky to bring him along, and Li didn't think he could stand the thought of the scoundrel _dying_ because of him. Letting the man go and knowing he was still alive would be preferable to losing him outright.

A plan formed in the wizard's mind. He would let Lyndon know first, and then he would go somewhere that he might find clues to restoring his magic a bit more quickly. He'd probably take something like a crossbow with him, just to have something to defend himself aside from the stench that might arise from him pissing himself in terror (something he hadn't done earlier, but if he were to be confronted with a similar situation in the future, he wouldn't dismiss the thought of it being _possible_ ).

He drifted back into the conversation after he'd worked out the details of his plan in his head, and came back to the sentence, "--right, since _that's_ settled, we should probably stick to the enclave until morning at the very least," which came from Lyndon.

Li wondered what just what had been settled. His hand throbbed and he winced; Haedrig picked up the conversation where the rogue left off. "Probably best if yeh wait a bit longer there, lad. Yeh might be able t' take the waypoints an' get there safely, but Eirena isn't attuned to the one in New Tristram, nor is Han."

"It should be fine if they're with us," Ander said, before Lyndon could form an impatient retort. "Kormac can accompany Eirena--" at this, the former templar turned an interesting shade of pink, "--and I will go with Han."

Hanquai looked a little startled by that suggestion. "I could just as easily stay here and help with restoring Westmarch to something like working order..." the crusader offered, slightly hesitant.

Ander leveled one of his cold, unimpressed stares at Hanquai, and the plate-clad man averted his eyes so he wouldn't have to meet it. "I'm sure the old cathedral won't have _anything_ of use to your crusade, then."

At that, Hanquai humphed and relented. "Very well, if you insist. The leads I had been following in Westmarch turned out to be false anyway..." It sounded to Li like the crusader had known his reasoning was weak in the first place.

The wizard didn't quite realize that Lyndon was staring at him, because he was trying to avoid the man's gaze. He only noticed that the rogue was doing it when it had already been going on for a while, but when he _did_ , he offered Lyndon a tired smile as a sort of weak reassurance. The thief still looked like he'd been hit upside the head with a tenderizer, but at least he didn't look like he was halfway to a breakdown.

More like a quarter of the way, then. Li waited patiently until the others had mostly wandered off before he approached the taller man, lowering his voice to speak to him a bit more privately. "You still haven't gotten your face seen to," Li said.

"And you're looking even more peaky than you did before," Lyndon countered; he sounded just as weary as Li felt. "I'm still cross with you, you know."

Li sighed and lifted his not-aching hand to touch the scoundrel's cheek. "If it makes you feel better, I wasn't willfully hiding it from you. It just didn't come to mind as something that was relevant."

By the look Lyndon gave him, his words _hadn't_ made the rogue feel any better. "So it isn't that you don't _trust_ me, it's that you're so damned _absent-minded_ that matters of life-threatening importance just slip your mind. Yes, that's _quite_ the improvement." The rogue let out a slow, unsteady breath. "What _else_ is there that you're not telling me, hm?" he asked, more quietly.

So much for that plan that included leaving Lyndon behind. All the numerous reasons why that idea wouldn't work hit the wizard at about the same time that the man's tone had made something tighten in Li's chest. Really, it wouldn't work out for either of them, would it? Li's hand fell back to his side, and he fidgeted a little. "I... was going to see if I could find a way to restore my magic more quickly," he said, a little guiltily.

Lyndon blinked at him. "But... That's _good_ , isn't it? Well, I mean, a good _idea_ at any rate. Given the circumstances."

"It's too dangerous, Lyndon." Li lowered his head so it would be a little harder for Lyndon to see him biting his lip. "I can't justify asking you to come with me."

For a minute, Lyndon seemed to consider what to say. Li played the possibilities in his mind; _you've brought me along for more dangerous things than assassins_ , or _is this just because you think I need protecting_ , amongst others.

When the man finally spoke, it wasn't what he expected at all. It was also possibly exactly what he needed to hear.

"So you want me to invite myself along then?" Lyndon asked.

Li nodded wordlessly.

"Good, because you're _mad_ if you think that I would just let you go off on your own like that." With that out of the way, Lyndon suddenly snatched the wizard's left hand up to examine it. "Now, let's see about this _hand_ you're so obviously favoring."

Just having it grabbed like that made Li gasp and wince, but when Lyndon started pulling his glove off it sent a shot of pain up his arm that made him try to jerk away involuntarily; the rogue had to tighten his grip on Li's wrist to keep hold of it. "It's fine, it's only a scratch," Li insisted.

"Mm, _right_. Then it shouldn't matter too much if you let me see it." With some effort, the rogue got the glove off of Li's injured hand, taking a bit of clotted blood with it and grazing the wound enough to make him hiss. Lyndon squinted at it in the low light, and a deep frown creased his features. "...That's. Not good."

" _What's_ not good?" Li asked irritably.

Lyndon lifted his eyebrows and ran a finger over what Li had dubbed a _scratch_. Annoyed, the wizard tried to yank his hand back again, but Lyndon had a firm grip on it. "A cut _this_ deep should be bleeding more, especially one on your hand," the rogue explained. "And it's gone black at the edges there, see?"

"I'll assume for the moment that isn't a good thing." Li huffed and glared, as well as he could ever glare at Lyndon. "May I have my hand back now?"

"It means it's probably _poisoned_ , you daft git." Thankfully, Lyndon let go. He still looked annoyed though. "I assume you _have_ poisons in Caldeum?"

"Of course we have poisons in Caldeum, they just don't work on me. _Anyone_ with magic is protec--" Suddenly the wizard realized just how dumb the statement he was about to make actually _was_ in the current situation, and stopped himself before he could finish it.

Lyndon stared at him with a bland, dry look for a minute. Then he sighed and shook his head. "Right, well. If it were something more dangerous, you'd likely be _dead_ by now, so my guess is that our assassin used something they found locally. Best case scenario, they used one of the local snakes' venoms."

The biting snakes Li was familiar with weren't exactly associated with _luck_. "How is that a best case scenario?"

"Because the snakes in Westmarch can barely kill an anemic child," Lyndon answered, with a measured and careful sort of calm, "while some the plants in the marshes could fell a packbeast. Come on, let's have Kormac see to it since he's a native and all that."

"Holy magic doesn't cure poisons," Li noted, cringing when Lyndon took his hand again to lead him back toward the group.

"Maybe not, but he'll be able to tell better than I can which one it _is_."


	5. Wait It Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What snake venom does to a person ain't pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two days on the same fic? Has Andy gone mad?
> 
> A bit, yeah. This was gnawing away at the inside of my head and I had to get it written. 
> 
> Lyndon knows shit about snake bites because you can bet he's used snake venom as a poison before AND he's probably seen people get bitten or been bitten himself by snakes local to the area. There's an entire story behind why Ander knows about snake bites and spider bites but it didn't need telling in this fic, just know that he's a morbid motherfucker who knows all the weird things for reasons that would probably send him spiraling into a self-loathing depression when given half a chance to think about them.

_"Sometimes I wonder how long you can go, running around killing things... and then you keep going!"_

　

 

Kormac seemed confused at being approached. That might have had more to do with the fact that he was obviously in need of sleep more than anything, or it might have just been because he was a bit slow when it came to noticing things. He was in the middle of a quiet conversation with Ander when Lyndon, still pulling the wizard along like a child, marched up to the templar and tapped him impatiently on the shoulder, clearing his throat.

Both the demon hunter and Kormac turned to blink at the rogue. "Erm, yes, Lyndon...?" For some reason, Kormac looked slightly flustered. Li filed that observation away for later consideration.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Lyndon asked, in what the mage would describe as a thinly-veiled tone of _I am done with this shit_ that Li couldn't really blame him for.

Kormac straightened with a cough and a quick nod that turned into a shake of his head when he realized that the proper answer to the question being asked was a negative. "N-no, no. It's n-nothing of any import." In the background, Ander rubbed at the bridge of his nose and sighed while the templar continued, "What, er... what seems to be the trouble?"

Lyndon pulled the little wizard forward by his bad hand again, making him squawk indignantly; Kormac's brows furrowed as his gaze fell on the untended wound. Even Ander looked up with a distinct frown. "Apparently our wizard is a bit worse for wear than we previously _thought_ , after that little run-in with the assassin."

"If I'm not dead _yet_ then I'll probably survive it," Li insisted. Oh good, now everyone would think he was an idiot as well as an invalid when he had no magic. "I'll have you know that I don't appreciate being treated like a child--"

"Then stop _acting_ like one!" the scoundrel hissed back at him, before coming back to Kormac. Li exhaled through his nose and resigned himself to merely glaring at Lyndon when the rogue wasn't looking.

Frowning thoughtfully, Kormac took Li's hand gently to examine it , running his thumb over the discolored skin around the wound, tracing the clotting around the edges of it, and feeling the swollen veins. The wound itself wasn't bleeding, but a clear fluid oozed slightly from it when pressure was applied; the application of said pressure, however careful it was, pulled a quiet and pained sort of noise from Li's throat. "It looks like the sort of poison that makes the blood run thick," the former templar said after a moment.

"I'd _gathered_ that much, thank you," Lyndon replied, a bit testily.

Before Kormac could form an insulted retort, Ander spoke up, letting out the long-suffering sort of sigh of someone who's tired of dealing with petty arguments. "The adders in the swamps produce a venom that has the same effect," he said. "There are venomous spiders in Westmarch, but their poison does the opposite, and it's harder to obtain."

Curiosity got the better of Li for a moment. "What do you mean, it does the opposite?"

"I mean that it turns the insides of its victims to an easily digestible jelly," Ander informed him, with a bland sort of look. Li was really getting to dislike that look; it made him feel like he was being condescended to. "But it's weak, and wouldn't kill anything much larger than a crow."

"Right." Suddenly the wizard regretted asking. He took his hand back and cradled it close to himself with a frown, wondering whether feeling slightly dizzy and ill was all in his head or if it was a result of the poison. He quietly told himself that it was probably the former.

Li was getting another one of those odd searching looks from Lyndon, but the rogue looked away quickly when he was caught staring. "So is there anything that can be done about it?" he asked, looking to Kormac again.

The templar shrugged, looking helpless and a little apologetic. "Wait it out, treat the symptoms. Cut away the dead flesh when the poison's work is done so that it doesn't turn to rot--"

"You're not suggesting cutting off my _hand!_ " Li exclaimed suddenly, feeling the blood drain from his face at the thought.

All three of them looked at him. When Kormac spoke again, his voice had softened a little, and he sounded slightly regretful. "Hopefully it will never come to that. But different people _do_ have different reactions to poisons and venoms, so I cannot say for certain."

Li quickly started to feel like he'd underestimated how sick he felt. He held his aching, burning hand tighter against his chest as his mind raced with unpleasant thoughts. How was he supposed to cast if he ended up losing a hand because of this insanity? It was bad enough that his magic was gone for the moment, but he'd be further handicapped in getting it back if he lost one of his hands. He'd have to relearn everything, every gesture and every movement, from the ground up. And everything would have to be channeled and done with one hand, one arm, because channeling through a stump, even with a prosthetic of some sort...

He wasn't aware of having staggered, but he must have at least _looked_ a bit like he was about to, because a strong arm came around his shoulders to serve the double-purpose of holding him up and giving him a scrap of reality to cling to. "And I thought you looked peaky _before_ ," he heard Lyndon mutter, and that voice helped to ground him further. He realized that his breathing had gotten a little ragged, and let out a slow, carefully controlled breath as he tried to calm himself.

When he looked up, the thief's expression was so troubling and painful to see that he forced himself to smile just so that he might be able to dispel some of it. "Heh. Is it _that_ bad? I hadn't noticed."

Lyndon smirked at him, albeit weakly. It helped. "Cheeky bastard."

Swallowing back against a wave of nausea, Li straightened and made himself stand away from Lyndon. He didn't want to look more weak than he already _did_. "I apologize for inconveniencing you two with this," he said, directing the statement at Ander and Kormac, all while trying to seem as not-sick as he possibly could.

Though the templar didn't seem to know quite how to take that, Ander shook his head and gave another sigh. "Li, go sit down before you faint."

At any other time, Li probably would have protested, particularly when Lyndon started to drag him over to a chair to do just that. On reflection, about the only thing that was keeping him from speaking up was his having to hold back the urge to vomit.

Definitely the poison doing that, he decided.

\---

Within another hour, it had become apparent that he couldn't even keep _water_ down. Myriam had seemed to know what was going on, as she always did, and offered her tent without question for Li to rest in. Along with a bucket, which he got an unsettling amount of use out of. He wasn't sure he'd even _eaten_ that much to bring back up. Sure enough, after a while it was only acidic, foul-tasting bile flecked with blood, until there wasn't anything left at all. At that point, the nausea mostly settled.

As for the rest of what the poison was doing to him, however, it was all downhill from there.

Strangely, Lyndon didn't crack any jokes about it. In fact, the man stayed mostly quiet beyond gentle encouragement and the occasional muttered curse that probably wasn't meant to be said aloud. It was nothing like when Li had been hungover and left to his own devices; Lyndon was practically _hovering_ , staying near the wizard even though he probably needed sleep, himself.

Normally, the shorter man probably would have said something about it earlier, but he had to admit that it was nice to have someone to hold his hair back and help him get his robe off over his injured hand, which had become even more swollen and discolored. It had gotten to the point where it hurt to move it, particularly the smallest finger (which had also turned the darkest, sickliest color at the tip from bad blood gathering there). His ring finger was barely any better, but his middle and index fingers were _somewhat_ better, with his thumb being the least affected so far. Meanwhile the burning sensation from before, which he imagined to be the poison doing its nasty work, had spread up his arm and nearly went to his elbow.

In the low light of Myriam's numerous candles, he could see his own swollen and discolored veins clearly through his skin. It made him feel ill again just thinking about what the poison might be doing to him, but he didn't have anything left in his stomach to bring up, and he could fight back against dry heaves so long as he didn't try to eat or drink anything else. Besides, it wasn't like there was much to do _besides_ stare moodily at his own damned injury when he was pretty much bedridden.

Going over the rest of the symptoms in his head was pointless. He'd broken into a cold sweat, and been told that was normal. His breathing had gotten more difficult and he'd been told that was normal too. When he'd asked what _else_ he was to expect he was told that most everything else was happening to him already, so he probably shouldn't worry about it too much.

He took that to mean that there was probably a thing or two that Lyndon wasn't telling him about but was secretly worrying about anyway, and at least if Lyndon was secretly worrying about things, he would still notice them and catch them when they came up as things to _actively_ worry about, if they ever did. And the rogue _would_ catch them, because he hadn't actually left Li's side yet and didn't seem like he was going to anytime soon.

Even when Li had settled himself into the plush, pillow-filled bed Myriam had loaned him, Lyndon had stayed with him. The thief was still there, sitting backwards in a chair he'd nicked from the courtyard, facing the bed so that he could watch Li out of the corner of his eye and have his arms folded on the mattress's surface with his head resting on them. His hair was a mess and he looked like he could use some sleep, with a distant look about him as he sank into his own tired thoughts.

Li debated, as he eyed his hand absently, whether or not to intrude on those thoughts. If he were to make a wild guess, he'd say they were probably morbid. It was never good for Lyndon to spend too long alone in his own head, the wizard had found. And yet he knew that just by being the one to bring it up when he was probably at _least_ half the cause of the problem, he might make it worse than if he just stayed silent.

So, for a very long while, nothing got said at all.

It was Lyndon who eventually broke the silence, and the wizard wasn't sure how much time might have passed by the time he did. "You should try to get some sleep, you know," the rogue said quietly, shifting enough to look at Li directly. "It'll only get worse."

"Like I could." Li's voice sounded as raw as his throat felt, and he wasn't all that surprised by the discovery. What he said was true enough; he didn't think he _could_ sleep while he was in that much pain and having such difficulty doing something as simple as _breathing_. "Could say the same to you, anyway," he added.

Lyndon hummed thoughtfully and shrugged. "Can't say my answer would be any different than yours." The rogue ran a hand through his hair, staring off into space again.

Leaning back into the pillows, Li thought about the things they'd talked about earlier. "I haven't been poisoned since... since I was a child, to be honest," he admitted. Lyndon looked up then, and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Hmm? I thought your magic didn't allow for such things to even _happen_." The thief looked slightly amused. Li smiled back weakly, relieved to see the older man perk up a little. Even if it was at something horrible.

"At the time I was hungry enough to think something half-rotten looked appetizing," Li explained, chuckling quietly. It wasn't a pleasant memory, but without things like that having happened to him, he wouldn't have gotten to where he was today. Probably in part because he wouldn't have been so stubbornly determined to never have them happen again, otherwise.

After frowning at him for a moment, Lyndon snorted and shook his head, relaxing a bit. "No _wonder_ you're so scrawny. Things like eating are _important_ when you've still got growing to do, you know."

Li was able to relax a little, too. It was good to fall into their usual banter again. "If I'm lucky, I've still got room enough to gain... oh, another inch or so before I'm finished."

That statement earned him a funny look, and he fought the urge to laugh because laughing would probably leave him wheezing. "Just how young _are_ you?" Lyndon asked, gawking a little.

"Nineteen and a bit." Not much of a _bit_ though, considering Li had _turned_ nineteen during their travels.

Lyndon groaned and buried his face in his arms.

The wizard had to grin. "What?"

"I'm sleeping with someone who's barely more than a _child_ ," came the answer; Lyndon's voice sounded distinctly embarassed.

Li _did_ burst into laughter then. It felt good, too, even if he came out of it wheezing and coughing and feeling nauseous again, with the thief sitting up to worry and fuss over him while suppressing a grin himself.

It was nice for Li to know that he wasn't the _only_ one who had silly culturally-based hang-ups about their little affair.


	6. I Can Get It Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All this coddling is getting on Li's nerves, no matter how justified it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this one up. SO MANY OTHER THINGS TO DOOOO.

Over the next several hours, even though no new symptoms had reared their ugly heads yet, Li found himself feeling progressively worse as the night dragged on. It had been years since he'd felt that weak and small and _helpless_ , but there was nothing to be done for it except to wait it all out.

He almost wished he were running a fever, though, just so that he wouldn't be stuck thinking himself in circles in his own damn head.

Lyndon, who was showing himself to be more and more of a sentimental fool in a thousand quiet little ways, stayed by his side without question. He avoided looking at Li's injured hand, though. Probably because the thief blamed himself for it, just like he blamed himself for every single thing that went wrong in his life. If Li had the breath within him to do so, he would reassure the older man, but he didn't. All he could do was watch.

Earlier on, when he could still manage at least half a sentence without having to pause for breath, he'd asked Lyndon how long it all might go on. The rogue did seem to know about that sort of thing, after all. "In my experience? About a day," he'd told Li, before adding quietly with a regretful smile, "...not that it gives you any comfort to hear that, I'd wager."

He'd taken Li's good hand and kissed it, and when the scoundrel had fallen asleep with his head resting on his arms on the side of the bed, snoring lightly, he still had that hand held in his own. Like it was meant just as much to make Lyndon feel better as it was for Li. Honestly, it probably was. The wizard was in too much pain to hide it anymore, which meant Lyndon could see how even the slightest twitch of that injured hand would send a jolt of agony up Li's badly swollen arm.

And there was the other reason Lyndon wasn't looking at that hand, of course; it was a little _sickening_ to see. The tips of his middle and ring fingers had gone black, and his index finger and thumb were headed that way, also. His pinky finger was rather hideously swollen and discolored, and the wound itself had turned the flesh around it a dead black color also. His arm had swelled up to his elbow, and the veins were dark, swollen and visible through his skin going as far up as his underarm. Most of the hand itself had taken on an unhealthy bruised-looking mess of colors.

The rest of him, in contrast, was pale and anemic-looking. His more unaffected extremeties tingled slightly from lack of proper bloodflow - he could feel the stark contrast between his own cold, sweaty hand and Lyndon's comfortingly warm one - and his chest was painfully tight as his lungs and heart struggled to power through being clogged up with bad blood. The whole blasted ordeal was exhausting, but it all hurt too much for him to be able to rest.

Then, as the light of dawn was just poking through the entrance to the tent, Myriam came in with a steaming cup of something and walked over to Lyndon with it, nudging him awake and handing it to him with a gesture in Li's direction. The wizard couldn't make out what was said between them, but something obviously _was_. After some murmured debate about it, Lyndon took the cup with a resigned sigh.

Standing up to lean over Li's form, he pressed the cup to the wizard's chapped lips. "Just drink it, it'll help you sleep," Lyndon assured him in a voice barely above a whisper.

Hah. Of course Myriam would know he needed such a thing, he thought as he sipped the pleasantly hot liquid. It tasted like black tea, though something was subtly different about it that he couldn't define. It felt good going down his parched throat, even as he fervently hoped that it wouldn't just end up coming back up again.

Lyndon smiled faintly, and handed the cup back to Myriam. "There, now, shhhh. I've got you," he said in a tone meant to soothe. Li watched the rogue stand up a little straighter, and felt Lyndon kiss his forehead. After that, the older man settled back into his chair at the side of the bed once more, taking Li's hand back into both of his and stroking it gently with a calloused thumb.

Had Li looked like he needed reassurance? Or had Lyndon needed it to feel less horrible about it all? The question was still on Li's mind as he slowly drifted off into unconsciousness.

\---

He woke up to the sun's light stabbing into his eyes through the opening in the tent, and Eirena at his bedside with one of Ander's ferrets in her lap. It was humid, so it had probably rained while he was asleep; the dampness in the air made his injury sting and burn anew.

"Mmf," he _mmf_ ed, shifting as much as the pain would allow for. It wasn't as bad as it had been. Though, someone had changed his clothes, he noticed. He wasn't a hundred percent sure, but by the sheer size of the rather comfortable shirt that had been loaned to him to wear as a single garment, it was probably Ander or Han that had donated the garment.

Just how long had he been asleep? And how completely _out of it_ had he even been?

Eirena seemed to notice that he'd woken up and turned to look at him with a soft smile. "It is good to see that you are awake," she said, producing a handkerchief and dabbing at Li's forehead with it.

He screwed up his face into a grimace at the fussing. Since he could actually _breathe_ somewhat again, he decided to give talking a try. "How long?" Augh, he sounded like someone had gone over his voice with a cheese grater.

The enchantress glanced outside, then back at him. "About ten hours." Once she was no longer playing with it, the ferret vacated her lap and hopped up onto the bed to nuzzle itself underneath Li's good arm. He frowned at it, but tried to pay it no mind. "How do you feel?" she asked after a moment, going to put two fingers against his neck just underneath his jaw. He shied away from the touch with brows slightly furrowed.

"Where's Lyndon?" he countered.

She sighed quietly, seemingly in exasperation. "He is resting. We made him, after your condition had worsened for a time. The thought that you might not wake did not do him any good." Then she got a bit of a wry smile about her. "We thought that forcing him to get some sleep might be something you would appreciate us doing."

If it had been that bad, Li supposed that it was best that he hadn't been awake for it. He had to grin a little at Lyndon having been forced to get a few hours' rest, though, just because he could quite clearly imagine what a fit the rogue had probably thrown. "I do. ...And to answer your previous question, _better_. Where are my clothes?"

"...Well, uhm." Eirena looked away in something like embarassment. "I am afraid we had to, uh, get rid of them."

Li gave her a pout. He hadn't thought that he'd made _that_ bad of a mess of Lyndon's ragged old shirt. "What did you do that for? I'd intended to _keep_ that shirt."

It took very little of Eirena's hesitant explanations for the wizard to catch on, and when he did, he gave her a bland, annoyed look. Mainly for being so delicate about it.

"You can just _say_ that I shit myself inside-out, you know," he noted. Although he guessed that Lyndon had probably known about it as a potential side effect and not mentioned it for the sake of avoiding embarassment, also. Must everyone treat him like some dainty desert flower?

She turned faintly pink and frowned at him. "I would rather not be so crude."

"Crudeness has its advantages." He wondered idly just who had gone about changing his clothes while he was unconscious. Probably Han. Of the ones capable of healing, he was the least shy about all the dirty work associated with it. "So, Eirena. What is your professional opinion on whether or not I'll need to have my hand cut off?"

Tilting her hand, Eirena stood up to lean over the bed and take Li's wounded arm as gently as possible, having to stand on tiptoe to reach it. She traced the swollen veins with her fingertips, examining everything thoughtfully. "Mm. It does not seem that you will."

He let out a relieved sigh, flopping back onto the bedding. "Good."

"...but you might still need to have the tips of your fingers removed," she added after closer inspection.

His good hand balled into a fist and hit the bed with a soft _fwump_ , narrowly missing the ferret that was still trying its damnedest to snuggle up to him and be his friend. "Damn."

Annoyed by that, the ferret bit his good hand. He yelped, Eirena laughed, and everything felt just a bit more normal than it had before.

\---

As time passed, Li felt better and better. Whatever poison he'd been exposed to had worked its way out of his system, and the effects it had on him were dissipating. The main things that lingered were a deep sort of pain in his hand and a general feeling of weakness that could just as easily be from having not been eating or drinking. Since he was _quite_ determined to not waste any more food than was necessary, he'd decided to wait till he was feeling mostly better to do either of those things. He'd gone hungry for longer stretches before.

Lyndon needed his sleep, so the wizard told everyone who came in not to wake him. And damn if there weren't a lot of people who came in to make sure he was all right.

Kormac came in and talked about assassins having no sense of honor. Haedrig smoked a _very_ smelly herb from a pipe that made Li cough, and asked if he would like a weapon made to defend himself with (no, he wouldn't, and it wasn't as if he could use any of them anyway). Han cheerfully examined his injury while none-too-subtly trying to get him to give details about his sex life (no details were given). Shen came in and babbled about festivals and food and music and women for at least a half hour. Ander seemed to think sitting quietly and brooding would help (Li called him on it; the hunter rolled his eyes, muttered, and left).

By the time Myriam came in, he felt well enough that he'd actually begun to get _bored_ again. He was seriously considering getting up to go bother people about the time that she stepped into the tent, right around sunset. "All right, you _had_ to have seen the assassin thing coming," he said, coming right out with what he was thinking.

She eased herself into the chair that Ander had recently vacated, the thing creaking under her weight almost as much as it had under Han's and Kormac's. "Of course, celdo. But if I had told you, what would you have done but let worry and doubt eat at you?"

"I might've been prepared, for a start."

"Ahh, but if you _had_ been so prepared, the killer would have seen as much, and resorted to far worse things to see to it that you would be dead by now."

"Hmph." Li didn't have an answer for that. Myriam was likely right, anyway. She nearly always was. "So what happens next?"

Myriam smiled that kindly, motherly smile at him that almost always managed to make him feel like a child. "What would you like to see happen?"

He didn't even hesitate in answering. "I would _like_ to get my magic back as quickly as possible. After that, I can properly strike a bit of fear into the hearts of those who would think of me as easy prey."

"Is that all you want, celdo?" she asked in a gentle tone. Li bristled a little, feeling as if he was being talked down to.

"Of course not. I want a hot bath and fresh sweetbread. I want to dedicate at least three more bags of holding entirely to my wardrobe. I want to be at least a hand taller and I want to read all the books that have ever been written." When she just continued to smile at him, he huffed and glared at her. "Stop trying to get me to talk about Lyndon, damn it."

The mystic chuckled softly. "You were the one to say it first."

That statement earned her an angry incoherent growly snarling noise in response, along with a pillow lobbed at her head.

 


End file.
